Lily could easily read what Rowan was feeling. He was broadcasting it to her loud and clear. He wasn’t jealous—not exactly. He knew that Lily couldn’t lie to him in mindspeak and that he didn’t have a reason to be jealous. Nothing had happened between her and Tristan. He just really didn’t like seeing Lily in Tristan’s arms. It bothered him on a gut level that no amount of rational explanation could ease.
“Change out of that slip,” Rowan said curtly as he dropped a pair of boots and a bundle of wearhyde clothes at Lily’s feet. “And remember to recast a face glamour when you leave the tent.”
Rowan spun and left them. Lily rubbed her aching head and sighed. “Great. The only thing worse than having a pissed-off boyfriend is having a telepathic pissed-off boyfriend—’cause you know just how pissed off he is.”
“Sorry,” Tristan said, but Lily could tell he wasn’t sorry at all. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Do you need help changing?”
“No,” Lily said emphatically.
“You’re still shaky, and it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked,” Tristan said with a flirty smile.
“Out,” Lily said, turning him by the shoulders and pushing him through the tent flap. She couldn’t help but laugh with him. It had been a long time since he’d acted so playfully with her. He hadn’t been his lighthearted self since Lily had come back, and she wondered what had revived his old spirit.
Once Tristan was gone, Lily managed to get into her bartered clothes even though her hands were shaking. She needed salt badly, and as she left the tent—glamour intact—she immediately sought out Rowan. When she touched his mind she felt tension, but it had nothing to do with Tristan or her. There was a fight brewing. Lily heard raised voices and tried to run in their direction, but all she could manage was a stiff jog at best. Everything ached and her head pounded with every step.
Lily rounded the bend in the tracks and came upon the main group at just the wrong time. Mary turned on her.
“Who are you, really?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. She pointed to the cauldron of water-purifying potion. “Your mechanics tell us that this one cauldron could clean enough water for an entire year of use. Do you expect us to believe you’re more powerful than the Salem Witch herself?”
Lily’s eyes sought out her coven desperately. Each of them was surrounded by the largest and strongest boys and girls the tunnel had to offer. Two of the teen boys had grabbed Una by the arms. Lily could feel how much her friend loathed being touched without permission, and a protective instinct kicked up inside her. How dare they touch her mechanics?
“If I’m so powerful, then maybe you should think twice before you threaten my coven,” she replied through gritted teeth. Mary recoiled, and Lily felt her smoke willstone flare with agitation. It wanted to be used, and it started sucking heat from every nearby torch and barrel fire in anticipation. A witch wind stirred, moaning down the tunnels, hot and dry, and Lily wondered briefly if her willstones were alive in their own right. She heard Rowan’s voice in her head, cutting through her anger and her throbbing headache.
Lily. We don’t want to hurt these people. They’re frightened, and that’s why they’re hostile. Please, calm down.
Lily met Rowan’s eyes and nodded. She took a deep breath and the witch wind died. Mary stared at her, jaw dropped and eyes so wide they looked nearly all white.
“Let my mechanics go. We don’t want a fight and neither do you,” Lily said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Mary looked over her shoulder and nodded once. Una yanked her arms free and shoved the kids who’d held her. Rowan, Tristan, Breakfast, and Una joined Lily, standing behind her in a semicircle. Lily felt calm now that they were near. She looked at Mary and sighed, planting her hands on her hips.
“I gave you serum and water purifier to help you,” Lily said.